


Forgetting Audrey Nathan

by inthebeginningtherewasM



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy is meddling, Doctor!Melinda, F/M, Fake Dating, Forgetting Sarah Marshall AU, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm being totally ridiculous, I've never been there but I heard it's magical, Phil is not over his breakup, Tahiti, Writer!Phil, and at summaries why is that not getting easier, because that's just the best trope, he's having a really bad time, thank God or that would never work, this is such fun to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-12-30 10:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthebeginningtherewasM/pseuds/inthebeginningtherewasM
Summary: After his girlfriend of five years breaks up with him, Phil aka his friends decide he needs a change of scenery. Tahiti is a magical place and Phil slowly learns to relax again, not without the help of the resort’s quirky clerk Daisy and the rest of the staff. When Phil’s ex suddenly shows up at the resort with her new boyfriend, Daisy is the one who lets Phil save face - by pretending that he is her mother’s new boyfriend…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, sweet peas! 
> 
> I've done it again. I really shouldn't have so many WIPs but @suallenparker did it again and gave me ideas so this thing was born. I really hope you have fun with it. :)

 

 

 

Phil leaned back against the headrest of his seat and looked out the window.

White sandy beaches, glittering turquoise water that reflected the sunlight, a lush vegetation peppered with palm trees that reached for the clear blue sky. There were colorful birds sitting in trees with thick leaves, sweetly scented flowers in all colors imaginable and Phil was sure, as soon as he would step off the shuttle at the resort he would feel a soft breeze and perfect temperatures.

He was less exited than he had thought he would be. Then again, when he had originally booked the flight to Tahiti, he had assumed that he would spend the vacation of a lifetime with the woman he loved and not come alone, as a shadow of his former self with a heartache so big he was sure it would swallow the whole island.

Phil closed his eyes and sighed. He did a lot of sighing lately. There was also a lot of staring off into the distance, being overwhelmed by emotion and some crying into his pillow at night.

It had become a problem, he could admit that now. He hadn’t had the will to leave his apartment anymore, had been haunted by memories that sprung at him at any and every corner on his block whenever he had gone outside, taunting and like a punch in the gut. He had seen Audrey everywhere, had had visions of past moments of them, together, happy.

He had lived off ramen noodles and cereal like a college student, had spent days in a row on his couch without moving very far, had not answered any phone calls or emails and hadn't opened the door when the doorbell rang. He was sure he had been an awful sight when his friends had in some way or other broken into his apartment and had him found lying facedown on the floor in his underwear and a stained t-shirt.

„Phil, we love you, honey“, Pepper had said. „And that’s why I’m telling you that it cannot go on like this.“ She had put her hands on her hips and looked around in his flat in a very demonstrative manner. It had been untidy, true. Mountains of dirty laundry, piles of used dishes in his sink, dead pot plants and his laptop and notes under a thick coat of dust. He had probably also not smelled very good if the looks on Tony and Maria’s faces had been anything to go by - he had been wearing that Captain America shirt for a few days, if he remembered correctly.

„When’s the last time you ate something that didn’t come out of a box?“, Pepper had asked. Her eyes had been so gentle, Phil’s throat had closed up again.

He had lifted himself off the floor, fallen onto a free spot on his couch, absentmindedly shoving an empty pizza box off the loveseat and dragging one hand over his face.

„I’m a mess, aren’t I?“, he had whispered. He had almost not dared to look at his friends who stood there in his living room, looking down at him with pity.

"Audrey is not coming back, is she?" His voice had been hoarse like he had just been sick. Well, he had been in a way. Heartsick. Phil had felt like crying again. It was all his own damn fault. His fault that Audrey had left him, his fault that she had found somebody else. He should have done so many things different, should have moved to Portland with her, should have said no to the new bookdeal, should have supported her more, should have asked her to marry him months and years ago. But he hadn't. And now she was gone and it was his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault.

Maybe his thoughts had been written on his face because Tony had bent down and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Phil, buddy, you need to get out of your own head", he had said gently. Which had probably only shown how bad they thought the situation really was. Tony Stark was never gentle. He was always sarcastic and brash. But he was a good friend. Phil liked him.

"Have you written anything, lately? Tried to work through it?", Maria had asked, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Phil had shaken his head. He had thought about it but he had already been blocked before the Audrey thing and now his brain was as blank as his computer screen. Maybe he would never write another word again. Which was bad, considering he was a novelist and that his agent had been blowing up his phone with calls and texts the last couple of days. But he just hadn't had found it in him to care about it. He didn't want to write. He just wanted Audrey back.

Pepper had sighed next to him before she had grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the couch.

"You need a shower, Phil", she had said. She led him to the bathroom, while Clint had started to pile dirty laundry into a basket and Tony cleaned the dishes in the sink and Maria opened all the windows.

He had felt better after a shower and wearing fresh clothes. Unfortunately not by that much.

"What you need is a change of scenery, man", Clint had said, after the flat had been cleaned and fresh evening air came in through the open windows and someone had brewed him a cup of tea. Phil blinked at Clint. They all sat and stood around him, Pepper placing a hand on his arm.

"You still have the tickets, right?"

The tickets. _The tickets_. Phil had swallowed. He had planned them as a surpise for Audrey. But she hadn't wanted them. Hadn't wanted him anymore.

So he just nodded. Yeah, I still have the tickets. Yeah, they are still valid.

At that point his friends had grinned at him and Maria basically flew into this bedroom and dragged his suitcare from behind the door.

"You are going", they had said, their faces delighted like little children at Christmas as if they were the ones who were supposed to go on a week-long trip to a tropical island. Phil hadn't wanted to.

"You are going", Maria had said, her face all scrunched up as if he was a unruly child she had to chide.

"Phil, think about it", Tony had said, letting himself fall onto the couch a huge grin on his face. "A whole week of sun and the beach and pretty ladies in bikinis. You'll forget all about your broken heart."

Phil had seriously doubted that. And he wasn't looking for a new relationship or a fling to "get over Audrey". You didn't just get over the love of your life.

But of course his friends hadn't taken no for an answer. And maybe they had even been right. Maybe a change of scenery was what he needed for his heartache to go away. Just a little. Maybe it would inspire him to write again. And so he had only struggled a little bit when they had packed his swimming trunks and some shirts, his laptop and other stuff into his suitcase and Clint drove him to the airport a few days later.

The shuttle bus stopped and Phil blinked away the memories.

It was a beautiful resort. The wide entrance area was full of gleaming white collums and cream coloured curtains that billowed a little in a light breeze. There were exotic flowers in pots and the cries of birds and monkeys and a whole bunch of other animals made for an interesting background music. The air was humid but not too much and Phil allowed himself to stop for a second and took it all in. It really was beautiful. All the colours seemed to have been cranked up to eleven, everything gleemed and all the people he passed on his way to the front desk - staff members in sky blue polo shirts with polished name tags, guests in dresses and swimsuits and flipflops and crisp shirts - had a relaxed smile on their faces and seemed genuinely happy to be here. Sure, why wouldn't they be. Maybe he could be one of them. With a little practice.

Phil walked up to the front desk. It was manned by a young woman in her early twenties with dark, silky curles and big brown eyes, wearing a formal blazer that was just as glowing and fresh-looking as the clothes of everybody else here. She had a pink flower stuck behind her ear and Phil immediately felt a little out of place with his wrinkled shirt and the jeans that frayed at the back. (Hopefully Pepper had packed some shorts or a nice shirt.)

"Hello and welcome to Tahiti", the desk clerk smiled brightly.

Phil managed a sheepish smile as he handed her his passport and a printout of his reservation. The clerk took it, typing a few numbers into the computer next to her and looked at his passport.

Suddenly she gasped.

„You are Phil Coulson“, the clerk breathed, her eyes big, her lips parted. Phil blinked at her. What?

„Have- have we met?“

Of course, maybe the young woman behind the desk just wanted to confirm that it was him, but the way she suddenly glared at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest somehow made him doubt that idea.

„I can’t believe what you did to Clark and Ming in the last book“, she sneered and shook her head.

Oh.

_That._

Phil’s eyes widened. He hardly ever got recognized for his books. Sure, „Operators of P.R.O.T.E.C.T“ had quite a fanbase, so much actually that his publishers had wanted a fourth and a fifth book although his deal had run out after the third book, he got fan mail and people came to books signings but only a few very dedicated fans knew that Joss Whedon was actually a pen name or recognized him on the street. Just his luck that he would meet one of said dedicated fans on his vacation on the other side of the world when he was nursing a broken heart.

„It was a good way to end the series“, he sighed, rubbing his neck. „They confessed their love and stayed at Niagara Falls like they promised. “

„But Clark is gonna die!“, the young woman said, her hands thrown into the air in exasperation. „And Ming is gonna be alone. That’s just not fair! It took them forever to get together. Do you know how much fan fiction I had to read to get over this ending?“

Phil gripped the front desk. Deep breaths.

„My editor wouldn’t let me give them a happy end, okay? A bittersweet ending was better and it was what the publishers wanted. I had very little say in it. Please, can I just have the keys to my room?“ Why were they even talking about this? And why did he feel like he had to defend himself?

The young woman - Phil peered at her name tag - Daisy, glared at him a last time before her fingers flew over the keyboard of her computer and she typed various numbers to confirm his reservation. Then she slid a keycard over the counter and put on a very fake smile.

„That would be Cabin 084 for you, sir. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ring the front desk.“

Phil gave her a wobbly smile.

"Thank you. In which direction-"

But Daisy had already turned to the next guest in the queue and ignored him. Phil sighed. (Again.) Guess he would have to find the way to his room himself.

A few minutes later Phil was lost. And not even in a metaphorical sense of the word. He had tried to follow the arrows and signs to find his cabin but somehow he just seemed to have managed to take more and more wrong turns until he walked up a path that looked like it wasn't an area guests were supposed to be in. Everything was just a little bit narrower, just a little bit dimmer, not quite as bright, not quite as sunny and spacious. It was still beautiful though. Little stone houses with reed thatched roofs and a cobblestone pathway. Big trees. It was quiet. Phil liked it.

Still, he was definitely wrong here. Phil stared at his keycard, turning it around and around like it could give him directions. None of the doors of the houses had a number on it, no keypads, just regular locks. He stepped closer to one of the cabins. Maybe he could knock and ask for directions.

Just as he raised his hand, a voice behind him startled him.

"Sir, this area is not for guests."

Phil turned around. There was a woman coming up to him down a pathway, her face hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. She had dark hair and her lips were pressed together in disapproval. She was the first person who didn't seem to have this perpetual smile plastered on her face. (Besides Daisy of course. But at this point he wasn't sure if Daisy counted. He still mentally shook his head at that strange encounter.) She was also the first person here that wasn't dressed in bright and happy colours but wore a black tanktop and black slacks. She wasn't tall but she looked imposing. Phil swallowed.

"I'm- I'm sorry", he stuttered. The woman came closer, slowly, almost stalking like a predator.

"I got lost", he admitted, pulling up his shoulders.

The woman stopped next to him, raising an eyebrow, obviously annoyed.

"Lost?"

He could almost hear her frown. Phil bit his lip. He felt like the biggest idiot.

"I think I took a wrong turn somewhere and then I might have taken another wrong turn and then I went up this little hill but I thought that might be wrong because the cabins are supposed to be at the beach but then I thought that maybe not all cabins are at the beach, so I walked up the hill again and then I saw this path and..."

The woman tilted her head and Phil clamped his mouth shut.

"I wanted to ask the desk clerk but I think she had too much to do", he said weakly, looking at his toes. He wasn't even wearing sandals yet. It felt like he already had half the beach in his shoes.

The woman huffed.

"Daisy", she murmured and plucked the keycard out of his hands, studying it.

"You went into the complete opposite direction", she said finally, handing it back to him. "You need to go back down, back to the reception and then to the right."

She gestured vaguely into the direction he had come from and nodded at him before turning on the spot and disappearing between two cabins just like she had appeared. Phil stared at the spot the woman had just been. She was gone so fast, he hadn't even thanked her.

It took him several minutes to find his way back and find the right cabin, his suitcase clickering behind him the whole time.

It was a nice cabin, just off the beach, situated between a whole bunch of palm trees and blooming bushes. It had an amazing view, tasteful pictures on the walls, dark wooden furniture, a soft bed and a terrasse. Phil stood at the window and looked out over the ocean. It was just like he had pictured it. Utterly perfect. Only Audrey was missing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo? What do you think? Kudos and comments are highly appretiated! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, sweet peas!
> 
> Sorry for taking so long with this. It took me a while to figure it out. Also, I gave myself all the feels with this and sincerely hope you guys didn't need your hearts. Enjoy!

_Phil, at least, could admit that he was blocked. Not cockblocked or blocked on social media or something. No, he had a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad writer's block. Which was the reason why he was lying on the floor in his underwear at the moment, his feet propped up on the couch, staring at the ceiling._

_The problem with writer's block was that it could go down two roads - either it spread like a virus and affected every other aspect of his life, which was bad because it made it almost impossible for him to make any decisions at all, no matter if it concerned what food to prepare or what clothes to wear. It turned into a crippling inability to do anything at all._

_On the other hand, sometimes the writer's block manifested itself by Phil putting all his energy into a thousand different tasks that somehow suddenly needed his immediate attention. He would put his heart and soul into some random project, like learning a whole cookbook full of new recipes or completely sorting through his collection of old WW2 memorabilia or repainting the living room._

_He had been blocked before, of course. It was nothing special, happened to all the writers all the time._

_At the moment, he seemed to be stuck in a combination of both types of blocks though. Hence the lying on the floor in his underwear. Still, there was one task he had pledged himself to wholeheartedly. Ever since all his creativity had seemed to slip away from him to simply drain out of him and sicker_ lm _into the floor to be gone forever, he had had one thing in mind. One thing that was, without a doubt, the very best thing in his life, that made all he ever did worthwhile, that lit up his days and nights and deserved so much more attention than he was able to give her. He just loved Audrey so much. It was time to show her just how much._

 +++

 

Tahiti was a magical place. There was no way around it. The colours of the flower bushes all around, the birds and the bees and the monkeys, the blue-blue skies and the white sandy beach and the clear water of the ocean. Still, Phil felt a lump in his throat even the next morning when he left his little cabin (dressed in a white linen shirt and shorts and sandals, obviously packed into his suitcase by Pepper). He missed Audrey. She was supposed to be here with him, happy and content. Together.

But she wasn't.

Breakfast had been great too, at a nice table on the terrace with a view of the ocean and palmtrees. There had been eggs and bacon and toast and fruit and pancakes and coffee and orange juice and crispy rolls and ham and cheese and everything anybody could have ever desired.

Phil couldn't enjoy it. He knew he had to keep it together, to get over it just like he had promised his friends to try but right now he just kept staring at the empty chair across from him, sighing deeply every once in a while before one of the waitresses came up to him with an inquisitive look, asking him if everything was alright with his food. He couldn't help blushing.

"Could- could you maybe remove the chair?", he asked, his voice weak and rough and pathetic in his own ears. The waitress regarded him for a second, her eyes darting from him to the chair and back to him, before the expression on her face softened ever so slightly and the chair disappeared faster than he could see. A few seconds later she was standing next to him again, like she had never left.

"Anything else you need, sir?"

Phil stared at the empty spot across the table where the chair had been. It was not perfect. But better. He lifted his head and managed to smile at the waitress, shaking his head a little.

"Thank you", he said. And he meant it.

 +++

 

_He had had three days to concoct the perfect proposal. He had it all planned out. The flowers, the champagne, the candles, the food, the tickets, the ring. Audrey would be so excited. They had been talking about making this trip to Tahiti for ages and now it would become reality. In three months time, when Audrey had her break from touring the States, they would take their vacation. Three months. Phil could hardly wait._

_He had briefly wondered if he should do it all differently, present her with the tickets and propose to her in Tahiti but had ultimately decided against it. He knew himself well enough to know that he would not be able to keep his intentions secret for that long._

_Just for this occasion he donned one of his best suits, a dark blue one he knew Audrey loved but had left out the tie. His hands were already sweating and he had the very rational fear that he would drop the ring as soon as he went down on one knee._

_He had called Audrey to make sure she would come to his place right after her plane had landed and thought that he had been just mysterious enough to let show that he had something planned for her but not too obvious. He was rather proud of himself._

_The last two hours before Audrey's scheduled arrival Phil was giddy. And nervous. And felt like throwing up. He wanted it to be perfect. And it would be perfect. Just like Audrey was._

_The minutes started silmultaniously ticking and racing by. Phil paced. He tugged at his collar and checked the time every few seconds the closer he got to her ETA. He was sweating. Maybe he should change his shirt? The doorbell rang._

_She was here._

_Audrey looked tired and exhausted but beautiful in a loose white blouse and dark pants and Phil couldn't help but beam at her._

 +++

 

"Sir, are you okay?" The voice was young and male and had a strange tilt, something that he couldn't quite place at first. Phil kept his eyes closed. He wanted to hold on to the images in his head, just for a little while longer.

"Sir, if you are not wearing sunscreen then may I suggest that you at least take one of the hotel's parasols?"

The voice didn't go away. Scottish, he decided. Huh.

"I'm fine", Phil murmured, reaching up and rubbing his forehead. He was coated in a fine film of sweat that itched a little but otherwise he felt comfortably warm, like he was lying in a big oven, baking. The temperatures here were much nicer than at home, that much was true.

"With all due respect, sir, it's the resort's policy to make sure that all our guests have the best possible experience here and right now your skin already looks like one of those lobsters Mack cooks for dinner."

If he ignored the young man, maybe he would go away? There was a shift in the sand next to him, like his new companion was stepping from one foot to the other in a nervous gesture. But surely a guest lounging in the sun without sunscreen wasn't something to be nervous about.

"Sir", the voice whispered, and Phil could feel a shadow falling on him, a presence that was much closer than before, probably kneeling next to him now.

"Sir, I know everybody wants to get tanned here but you really shouldn't risk a heatstroke. I mean, we have an in-house doctor but she tends not to treat people if they get hurt because they are being stupid."

Phil opened his eyes at last and squinted up at the man squatting next to him. He was young, incredibly so, with a halo of curly hair on his head and wearing the tell-tale sky-blue uniform of the hotel with a shiny plaque that read "FITZ" in bold letters on his chest.

"But isn't that against her Hippocratic Oath?", he asked, frowning and conveniently ignoring that the young man seemed to think that him lying on a towel at the beach in the sun was "stupid".

Fitz shrugged and showed Phil a crooked smile.

"Are you sure you wanna stay here, Sir? It's really not healthy in the sun like that."

Phil nodded and the young Scot sighed.

"Okay, but I'll bring you an parasol. And maybe a lawnchair?"

 +++

 

  _"Phil...you are wearing clothes."_

_Phil had to chuckle at the honest look of surprise on Audrey's face as he stepped aside to let her in._

_"Isn't that what people do, normally?"_

_Audrey gave him a wobbly smile. He knew what she was refering to, had told her about the writer's block, about how hard it was to come up with a new story after his publishers had made him change the ending of the last book. He just didn't know where to go from there but anyway. He wouldn't focus about that now. Not when the biggest and best change of his life was at his fingertips._

_"I have a surprise for you", he said, grinning, pointing into the direction of the living room. The table was just out of sight, perfect for a big revelation._

_But when he turned to Audrey, she was still standing in the same spot, her back to the door. She worried her lower lip and looked at the floor. She hadn't taken off her shoes yet and held the strap of her purse in a deathgrip. Phil frowned._

_"Is everything alright?"_

_Audrey sighed. It sounded defeated, tired. The journey must have tired her out more than she let have on._

_"Phil, we need to talk", she said. An ominous sentence but Phil didn't realise the gravity of it. Later he would bang his head against the table, cursing himself for not paying more attention to it._

_"Sure. Let's do that. But come in first, yeah? I have something to show you."_

_She would feel better if she saw what he had prepared. He was sure of it. They had talked about Tahiti for so long. And he loved her. He wanted to marry her._

_Audrey didn't move. She took a deep breath before finally raising her head to meet his gaze, a mixture of determination and deep sadness in her eyes._

_"Phil, if I don't do this now, I will never get to it. Please, let me talk."_

_Phil frowned and stood in the doorway, looking at her. He could feel the combined warmth of all the candles he had lit, on his back. He hoped they wouldn't burn down too fast before they get to the dinner and proposal part of the evening._

_Audrey took another deep breath. He could see how she balled her hands into fists and still didn't see it coming when she opened her mouth and-_

_"I think we should break up."_

_There was a deep silence, the words hanging in the air between them, almost palpable. Phil felt like a rug had been pulled from under him._

_"You think- I don't understand."_

_Audrey looked at him, dark eyes boring into his._

_"I think we should break up", she repeated. "I think it's for the best."_

_Phil shook his head. No, he must have misheard. He_ must _have. He had been about to reconfess his undying love and ask her to marry him._

_"Audrey, please, just- just come inside and we'll talk. You don't see...I -"_

_"Phil..."_

_"No, Audrey, really. I have something for you. Please, don't leave! I-"_

_He turned around on the spot and sprinted into the living room. The candlelight was flickering as he grabbed for the red envelope that held the tickets for Tahiti. Phil raced back, shoving the tickets at Audrey._

_"Look, I got them. We can visit Tahiti. Just like we planned", he hurried, "And look-"_

_He reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the velvet box, trying to pull it out. It snagged at a fold in the fabric, Phil pulled, the ring tumbled out of the little box and fell to the floor with an audible ping, just to roll under the cabinet where Phil kept his shoes._

_At another time he might have laughed about it. He had been so worried that he would drop it and now he had. As it were Phil just dropped to his knees, frantically reaching under the cabinet._

_"I'm sorry", he rambled, "Sorry about this, Audrey. This isn't how I planned it."_

_His fingers finally touched the ring and scooped it up, dusting it off as he turned around. He was already on his knees, might as well go for it._

_"Audrey, would you do me the honour-"_

_Audrey yanked at his arm, pulling him into a standing position, her eyes big and desperate, maybe embarrassed._

_"Phil!"_

_He reached out for her, with his hands on her upper arms. He felt faint, the ring in his hand suddenly so very heavy._

_"Audrey, I don't know what I did but I can do better, I promise", he implored, feeling the fabric of her blouse between his fingers. He had to make this right._

 +++

 

Tears were streaming down Phil's cheeks. It always happened sooner or later, he just couldn't stop it. He looked around at all the resort guests around him, if anybody noticed him but there were very few around and those who were didn't pay any attention to him. Good.

Phil wiped the tears off his cheeks and rubbed his eyes. One would think that in three months he would have gotten all the crying out of his system. And now he was at the most beautiful place on Earth and was still crying. He felt more than just a little pathetic. He really ought to get over it.

Suddenly a shadow loomed over him, for the second time of the day. Phil blinked at the newcomer, one palm still pressed against his eyes.

"Did you get sand in your eye, sir? Wait, I think I have a tissue."

It wasn't Fitz this time but a young woman, smiling brightly and patting her pantpockets for a tissue. She was wearing the same uniform as the rest of the resort's staff and a bright, happy smile. Both of her lower arms were hung with swimming goggles and snorchels in all sizes and she had a linen bag slung over her shoulders, her brown hair frilled from the humidity.

"You really should wear sunglasses here on the beach, sir. Sometimes the wind picks up a litte and sand gets blown everywhere and whoop, you get it in your eyes", she trillered and handed him a tissue from one of her pockets. Phil blinked up at her. He couldn't tell if she was giving him an easy way out to save his dignity or if she genuinly thought that his face was wet with tears because he got sand in his eye.

"Thank you", he said, squinting at her nametag, "Jenny."

"It's Jemma, sir", the girl beamed, "I lead the snorchelling course around here. There is lots of interesting sealife down there. You can join my group if you want. I'm always happy about new students."

"Jemma", Phil repeated, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up at her. She seemed like a nice girl. "Thanks but I'll pass. Maybe some other time."

Jemma nodded, still smiling.

"Snorchelling is every day between four and six. In case you change your mind. Just ask Daisy at the front desk to put you on the list."

A last bright smile in his direction and she was gone. Phil wiped at his face with the tissue.

 +++

 

_"Phil, there is somebody else!"_

_She didn't yell it but the urgency in her voice made him stop in his tracks. He stared at her with his eyes almost popping out of their sockets, thunderstruck. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Suddenly all the air in his lungs was heavy as lead, no way to get it in or out of his body, his throat closing up. He felt lightheaded. Phil took his hand off Audrey's arm. Defeated by just five words. That was all it needed to shatter his whole world._

_Of course he knew about the power of words. He was an author, for Pete's sake. But never in the world would he have thought that words coult actually hurt him that much. Piercing his heart and drowing it in their meaning, cruel and brutal and honest._

_At least she was honest, right? Phil's mind was swirling. He couldn't focus, so many thoughts running amok in his head._

_"Somebody else?"_

_He sounded raspy like he had been chainsmoking his entire life. There was guilt in Audrey's eyes but also something else, relief?_

_"You are a good man", Audrey said with a soft smile - Phil felt like he was going to be sick - and reached out to touch his face. Phil flinched._

_"I don't think we are right for each other, Phil. Maybe never were."_

_She grabbed the strap of her purse a little tighter._

_"Marcus loves me. I love him. We go good together. It fits. You and me, Phil...we don't fit."_

_She shrugged helplessly, letting go of the purse strap again and wringing her hands. Then she seemed to come to a decision and took a step towards him where he still stood motionlessly in the door. She kissed his cheek, a soft, small touch._

_"I'm sorry", she said quietly before she turned around and walked out the front door, pulling it close behind her. "Goodbye, Phil."_

_Phil slumped against the doorframe to the living room. His fingers couldn't hold on to the ring anymore and it clattered to the floor once more, rolling away. Phil didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. Behind him the flickering flames of the dozens of candles heated the room. It felt uncomfortably hot now. Phil didn't care about that either. Maybe he should go in and let them burn down and let the flames take him._

+++

 

He had felt so bad for weeks. For months. He had not gone back to writing. Had not done anything for days but stare at the table with the flowers that had slowly withered away, stared at the burned out candles. He had cleared the food away at some point, dumped the tickets in one of his deskdrawers and drowned the bottle of champagne one lonely night when the initial numbness of the breakup had receded and the pain had just been too much.

Phil watched the waves rolling in and out, comfortably sitting in a lawnchair under a parasol. It was soothing somehow, the eternal back and forth and back and forth of the tides. It was peaceful. It was exactly what he needed. Not that he would ever tell that to Tony or Maria. He would never live it down. But he was grateful. Grateful that he had friends that cared for him and who wanted him to get better.

It was good to feel something so positive. A welcome change to all the despair the had been clinging to the last few weeks. Maybe he would really be getting better here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. <3


End file.
